


Mini-Me

by coraxes



Series: I Slap Him As Hard As I Can [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Critical Role Rarepair Week, Critical Role Rarepair Week 2017, Established Relationship, Goliath Headcanons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 22:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12045465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coraxes/pseuds/coraxes
Summary: Grog doesn't like babies.  Doesn't mean he's gonna leave one lying around outside.





	Mini-Me

**Author's Note:**

> Two things!
> 
> First, this is a sequel to the other fic in this series (big surprise), _Thinking Too Much_. If you haven't read it yet, all you need to know is nothing important happened after the Chroma Conclave died and now Vax and Grog are dating.
> 
> Second, this fic contains references to infant exposure and ableism re: said infant exposure. Nothing graphic, but be aware if you're sensitive to that sort of thing.

The baby goliath squirmed in the spare blanket as Grog carried it back to camp.  At least it wasn’t crying yet--he could handle a little squirming, he’d picked up Pike and Scanlan so much he was used to it, but screaming was supposed to just happen when he was fighting someone.  Not when he needed to change a diaper.

“You’re a fighter, right?” Grog asked the baby.  It wasn’t gonna answer him, but that was fine.  Walking by himself with an abandoned kid was just weird.  It was still alive, so the herd that left it behind was probably close.  “You wouldn’t cry just ‘cause you peed yourself.”

Predictably, the baby didn’t reply.  Its little face just squinched up more.  Grog made a face back, but the baby’s eyes were closed so it didn’t see.

The kid kept quiet all the way back to camp, where Grog found Vax already awake.  “Where’ve you been?” Vax asked, poking the fire with a stick, and then he looked up.  “What the hell is  _that_?”

“I got bored so I thought I’d look around, right?” Grog explained.  “Scout around, see if there was anything worth finding around here.  And I found a baby.”

“You  _found_ a baby,” Vax said, slowly.  He frowned, eyebrows getting furrowed like they did when he was on the way to getting real-upset and not just messing-with-him upset.  “It’s not  _your_ baby, is it?”

Grog sighed.  People called him stupid, but he was pretty sure Vax was stupider sometimes.  “How would I even make a fuckin’ baby that fast?  Nah, look--”  He unwound the blanket he’d wrapped the baby in; it was smelly on account of being in the Bag of Holding for forever, but whatever.  “It ain’t got an arm.  Its herd probably just left it.”  It sorta had an arm, a few inches of chubby baby stuff below its shoulder that ended in skin that was folded like it hadn’t been sure where to stop.  

Now Vax’s eyes were wide.  So they’d definitely be keeping the baby, at least for now.  “Just _left_ it?”  He stared at the baby, and then up at Grog.  “You _do_ that?”

“I don’t,” Grog snapped.  He’d fuckin’ rescued the thing, right?  It wasn’t like he didn’t _know_ about herds and leaving babies and shit.  When he used to be with the Herd of Storms, they’d left anyone who couldn’t keep up to die, elders and warriors who’d gotten too hurt to walk and yeah, sometimes kids.  And he knew they weren’t the only ones.  It was what goliaths _did_. 

Didn’t mean he _liked_ it.  And he couldn’t have helped everyone who got left behind.

“It’s probably gonna be hungry,” said Grog.  He shouldered past Vax and sat down by the campfire.  “Think it’ll eat jerky?”

“Oh gods no,” said Vax, and sat down beside Grog.  He reached over Grog’s arm to poke the kid’s soft head, and then its eyes opened.  It blinked a little bit and stared up at Grog’s beard, not like it was really interested but just ‘cause it was in the way of its eyes.  Grog knew that look.  He’d seen it in people who’d gotten hit real hard in a tavern fight.  “He’s gotta be a newborn, right?  Probably shouldn’t be eating anything besides milk.  And is he supposed to be that cold?”  He moved his hand from the baby’s head to Grog’s arm, frowning.

“It was sitting outside naked for a while, probably just needs to warm up,” Grog said, rolling his eyes.  “Why don’t you do that glowy thing?”

Vax blinked at him.

“With your hands?”

“Oh, that,” Vax said, smirking a little.  He leaned over to poke the baby’s nose and his finger lit up, gold light running down it into the baby.  Its eyes got a little less glassy and its squirming stopped, just for a second.  Then the light went away and it started to cry.

“Oh, hell no.” Grog pushed the baby to Vax.  “Your fault, you deal with it.”

“Don’t call him _it_ ,” said Vax.  He took the baby, thank fuck, but it just started screaming louder.  Vax jiggled it a little, like that would help.  “I think the crying’s a good sign--he feels warmer too.  So good call on the healing, big man.”

(After they’d started on the whole dating thing, and not just the fucking thing, Vax had tried calling Grog romantic shit.  Like, he said _sweetheart_ once and then Grog laughed so hard he fell over.  So he mostly just stuck to _big man_ now, which was fine because 1) hell yeah, Grog was and 2) only Vax ever called him that.  Scanlan did once, and Vax said, “Nah, that’s _my_ thing.”  So that was sorta romancey.)

“Thanks,” said Grog.  He didn’t bother explaining that you were supposed to call babies _it_ until they were big enough that you knew they probably weren’t gonna die.  Pike got really upset when he told her that ages ago, and Vax was just as much of a softie as she was sometimes.  “Now how do we make it stop?”

“I don’t _know_ ,” said Vax, scowling as he tried to rock the baby.  “Can you use that jug of yours to make milk or something?  Do we have any bottles?”

Grog pulled out the jug.  Milk was pretty basic, right?  If it could make mayonnaise it could probably do milk.  He tapped on the lid.  “Goliath tit milk,” he told it.

“Oh for _god’s_ sake, Grog,” said Vax. 

Grog ignored him and opened the lid--no dice.  “Breast milk,” he tried again, and grinned. 

“Really?” asked Vax.

Grog made eye contact with Vax, who was trying to pat the baby’s head.  “I would like some tit liquid, please,” he told the jug.

“Why am I your boyfriend,” said Vax, and Grog gave up trying to pretend he wasn’t laughing.  He was so _easy._ “Milk!  Regular-ass milk!”

Grog hoped to fuck it wasn’t full of ass milk, but when he opened the jug the milk looked pretty normal.  They didn’t have bottles so instead Grog had to pour it _really_ slowly in the kid’s face while Vax rocked him.  Vax ended up with it all over his armor, but eventually the kid stopped crying.

“Oh thank the gods,” said Vax when Grog was done.  He used a bit of the blanket to wipe off the kid’s face and smiled down at it.  “That was all you needed, wasn’t it?  A little dinner and some healing and you’re oh _FUCK--_ ”

The baby threw up all over the blanket and Vax’s hand, and Grog started laughing while Vax sputtered.  Fuckin’ _babies._

Finally they washed everything off, sort of.  They fished one of Tary’s old shirts out of the bag of holding and Vax cut it into little squares to make diapers while Grog held the kid.  Then they found a cleaner blanket and tucked it in like a baby burrito.

 It liked him more than Vax, Grog thought; even after it’d stopped crying on Vax it made little fussy noises, but when Grog held it the way Pike had shown him once--he really just needed one arm, it was so small--it closed its eyes and got quiet.  “Think it knows we’re both the same,” he told Vax. 

He’d never gotten the deal with babies, but with its eyes closed like this it really was cute the way that really ugly dogs were cute.  Its skin had a weird red color under the grey, like it was blushing, and its head was shaped a bit like a cone. 

Grog was glad he’d found the thing.

A warm weight settled against his shoulder.  He’d gotten used to it; Vax liked leaning on him, and if he wasn’t trying to hold a baby he’d put an arm around Vax too.  “We should take him back to Whitestone,” Vax said.

“There’s a town closer,” Grog pointed out.  “Probably has an orphanage or a temple that’ll take it.”  They’d passed through on their way to take out a necromancer, and there were only about two days left in their return trip, but Whitestone was about a week away.  Slower if they had to keep a kid with them.

Vax shook his head.  “Orphanages can be fucked up,” he said.  “I’d rather leave him in Whitestone; I trust Vex and Percy to keep the one there running well.  And we can keep an eye on him.”

Grog rolled his eyes.  The kid kicked a little against its blankets, maybe dreaming or something.  What did babies dream about?  They were probably too dumb to dream about being great warriors, right?  “You’re gonna be a big sap about it, aren’t you?”

“ _I’m_ gonna be a sap?” Vax asked with a snort.  “You’re the one who can’t take his eyes off the thing.”

Oh, shit, he had been staring.  Grog glared at his partner instead.  “Can too,” he snapped--too loud, because the baby jerked in his arms and yelled.  “Shh, dummy, I was just yelling at Vax,” he told the thing, rocking it a bit.  “That’s normal.”

The baby stopped crying after a second.  “Sap,” Vax whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/kudos/criticism are all welcome! <3 This is my first time really getting into Grog's head, so your opinion would be appreciated.
> 
> Unless you're gonna tell me that the alchemy jug can't make milk. I know that, it's just stupid. It can make MAYONNAISE, why wouldn't it make milk?


End file.
